Vines of Ivy and Barbed Wire
by WrittenByMeow
Summary: Ivy hadn't wanted to go to the party. Barb hadn't either. Nancy had begged them to come and, like good friends, they had agreed. She hadn't realized that it could go so wrong so fast.
1. Here Lies Danger

Hawkins High was bustling with midday activity. The hallways were treacherous at this hour. It was nothing compared to the rush right before the first bell. Just that morning alone, Ivy had gotten tripped twice and somebody had stepped on her hand when she went to pick up the books she had dropped. As she scuttled through the crowd, she viewed all feet with suspicion.

Barb leaned around her locker door to raise a brow. "Are you okay?"

"Hmm? What? No," she answered distractedly, searching the sea of students for one face in particular. "Where's Nancy? I want to compare our essays."

Suppressing a smile, Barb held out her own essay. They had gotten them back after lunch. The red ink was barely dry. "Here," she offered.

She snatched it out of her hands with a swiftly muttered, "oh, sweet Baby Ruth, thank you." She dived right in, eyes zipping across the page.

Barb rolled her eyes and shook her head fondly. She knew that Ivy knew exactly what essays her friends had turned in. She had been the one to proofread both Barb's and Nancy's. What she was after was the notes. She liked to read the markings the teacher left behind. She weighed each note with great consideration.

Comparing the notes on all their assignments had been a hobby of hers since middle school. She claimed that it helped her slant future assignments to appease to whichever teacher's style. To a certain extent, that's what she did. Barb knew the truth. Perfectionism tormented her poor friend.

"Is she reading the notes again?" Nancy inquired. She didn't bother asking Ivy. Past experience had taught her that, unless there was an emergency, interrupting Ivy while she read wasn't a good idea.

Barb sighed theatrically. "It's like I don't even exist," she cried with an over the top sniffle.

"Do any of us exist?" Ivy muttered as she turned the page.

Her friends exchanged a bemused glance and mutually shrugged it off. That was Ivy. She was a little odd.

Steve Harrington appeared at Nancy's side and threw his arm around her shoulders. "Hey!"

Ivy tuned out their voices and kept reading. When she was done with Barb's, she accepted Nancy's without question. It didn't matter what they were saying since none of it was for her benefit. The only reason they were sharing the same space as her or Barb was because Harrington wanted in Nancy's pants. She trusted that Barb would fill her in on any details that she missed.

"Oh my god," Carol said under her breath, the change in her tone catching Ivy's attention, "how pathetic."

Tommy flashed a mean grin. "How much you want to bet that the freak killed his little brother himself?" He and Carol laughed at his own sick musings.

Shifting uncomfortably, Steve punched Tommy in the arm. "Dude, shut up!"

Ivy raised her head from Nancy's essay to blink at the giggling couple. "I've met Will Byers. He came over to Nancy's house to play with her little brother. He's a really sweet kid."

"Yeah? Well, I heard he's a fag," Tommy retorted.

Wordlessly she returned to the essay. Only Barb seemed to see the way she huddled closer to the lockers. Nancy was too caught up in staring at Jonathan Byers to notice.

It was a relief when Steve, Tommy, and Carol left. Ivy was not a fan. Then again, her preference when it came to people was narrower than most.

Ivy returned the essays to their proper owners. Wandering off, she went to inspect what Jonathan Byers had pinned to the notice board.

A heavy sense of dread settled on her spine as the innocent face of Will Byers beamed out at the world that passed by so callously. So young; so trusting. The headline 'Have You Seen Me?' screamed for her attention. She didn't know whether the words were a plea or a warning.

Something tugged on her attention. It happened again. When she realized it was the sound of her name she jerked towards it. She blinked several times in effort to refocus her thoughts. It was difficult. "Yes?"

Barb leaned her weight onto her right hip with a shake of her head. "You don't have to if you don't want to," she told her seriously.

"Don't listen to her, Ivy!" Nancy discouraged. "You should come. It'll be more fun with you both there."

"Okay," Ivy replied. It was less in agreement and more acknowledgement that they were speaking to her. She had no clue what they were talking about.

Beaming, Nancy reached out to squeeze Ivy's arm. It was one of the few touches that Ivy was comfortable with. "Thank you! That means you're coming, too, right?" She asked, turning expectant brown eyes on Barb.

Indecision warred as Barb swayed side to side. She made a face. "Ugh… fine."

Nancy cheered.

The warning bell rang out. The tides of the crowd shifted and the girls jumped into the first available opening. Barb and Nancy were talking but Ivy wasn't paying attention to them. There were too many elbows and knees and swinging bags for that. Hallways were dangerous.

* * *

The familiar honk drew Ivy to the window. She saw Barb's car parked by the curb. Grabbing her bag, Ivy bid her parents goodbye. Her mother's reminder about her midnight curfew chased her out the door.

"What did you tell your parents?" Nancy demanded as soon as Ivy got into the car.

Her brow furrowed. "I think I said 'goodbye' and 'I love you'?" She replied uncertainly.

The eye roll was clear in Barb's tone as she elaborated, "She means: what did you tell your parents we're doing tonight."

Over the years the friends had come to an unspoken understanding. It usually fell to Barb to fill in the gaps of Ivy's comprehension of the world. She wasn't a dumb person by any means. However, there were definite gaps, especially when it came to social situations.

"Oh. That we were studying," Ivy answered, relaxing slightly. A beat later she squinted at her friends suspiciously. "Why? What did you tell your parents?"

"Same thing - studying. I'm going over to Barb's house and she's going to mine," Nancy explained, examining her reflection in a compact mirror.

Ivy sighed and hugged her bag to her chest. "Why do I get the feeling that I brought my calculus book for no reason?"

"Because we're going to a party," Nancy informed her. She began tugging at her shirt.

Blinking, Ivy considered this a moment before her lips fell into a pout. "That sounds awful."

"It'll be fun," Nancy assured her. Maybe if she repeated it enough Ivy would believe her. Probably not.

"Oh, come on, Nance. Steve invited you over to get into your pants," Barb said, caught halfway between exasperated and scornful.

"No he didn't!"

"Please. His parents are gone. You'll be alone in a big empty house…" The insinuation in her voice left little to the imagination.

She scoffed. "We're not going to be alone. Tommy and Carol will be there."

"Who have been having sex since the seventh grade!" Barb shot back. "It's probably going to be some big orgy."

Wide-eyed, Ivy leaned towards Nancy. "Did you bring condoms?" She asked seriously.

Nancy twisted around to gape at her. "Why would I do that?"

"You don't want to get pregnant," she pointed out. "Whenever Grandmother gets drunk, she still talks about how Mother could have gone to college if she hadn't gotten pregnant with me. You don't want your mom doing that at Thanksgiving. It's not pretty." Her eyes glazed over as memories of family gathering past surfaced. A shudder rolled through her.

An awkward laugh surfaced as she finally pulled her shirt overhead. "Oh my god, please stop. We are not having sex!"

Barb studied her friend out of the corner of her eye. "Is that a new bra?" She inquired.

"…No."

Ivy retreated into the backseat. After worrying her lip for a minute, she pulled out a length of olive green paracord. She clutched it tightly. This would be what got her through the night.

When she had been little, her dad would give her string to practice knots on to keep her occupied during church sermons. The habit had spilled over to other places. Keeping her hands busy helped her focus. The repetitive motions calmed her. Tug and twist to knot it up. Tug and twist again and it comes undone.

Ivy hated parties. She really, really hated them. It didn't matter what size or who was there. She always ended up off to one side, counting down the minutes until she could go home. This one was no different.

Curled up on one of the pool chairs, she tugged and twisted relentlessly at a length of paracord. She watched with barely veiled disgust as Steve stabbed a beer can and then chugged the contents. Once he tossed the can away, he held the knife and a fresh beer out to Nancy.

Ivy was shocked when she accepted. She'd never seen Nancy drink so much as a drop of alcohol.

However, Barb didn't say anything to stop her. Ivy figured it was best if she didn't either. She kept tugging and twisting.

"Here, Ivy," Nancy said as she grabbed another beer. "You give it a try,"

Her lip curled. She'd never tasted beer before but she had smelled it. No way was she going to subject herself to that. Ivy shook her head and kept practicing her knots. Tug, twist, repeat.

"Oh, come on," Nancy cajoled.

"Yeah," Carol agreed, "don't be a stick in the mud."

She hesitated. Her gaze flicked between her two friends. "This is not fun," she informed them. Tug, twist, repeat. Tug, twist, repeat.

Hanging off of Tommy, Carol threw her head back and groaned. "Oh my god, don't be such a dweeb! Drink the beer, O'Malley."

"Guys, leave her alone," Barb told them. There was disappointment in the small frown she shot Nancy.

A brief look of irritation passed over Nancy's face before she plastered on a bigger smile. "You should try, Barb. Come on! It'll be fun."

Barb looked around uncertainly as the rest of the group urged her try the party trick. When her eyes landed on Ivy, the other girl was frowning intently at the tiny noose she was making.

A whine from Nancy about Barb being a drag finally got her to relent. She took the can and the knife with an air of great burden. She sighed and brought the point of the knife down. Instead of puncturing the tin it slipped and sliced open her thumb instead. Hissing, she dropped the can and clutched at the wound.

Abandoning the paracord, Ivy hurried over to Barb's side. She urged Barb to let go so that she could check it out. Blood coated half of Barb's hand. It dribbled down her wrist.

"Oh, shit. That looks gnarly," Tommy chuckled.

Through gritted teeth, Barb asked, "Where's your bathroom?" She was gone before Steve had finished giving her directions.

Ivy took a couple of steps to follow, intending to help, and then stopped. She cocked her head at Nancy. "Nance! Aren't you coming?"

She opened her mouth, perhaps to explain her dawdling, but spun around at the splash behind her. She laughed at the soaked and squalling Carol. In the space of two seconds Barb had completely left her mind. The resistance she put up was a token one at best before Steve wrestled her into the pool, too.

She watched on sadly. It was a shame what the spark or romance could snuff out, Ivy thought as she walked into the house.

By the time she had found the bathroom and had managed to coax Barb out of it, the party was headed inside. The four of them were dripping all over the carpet. Neither Tommy nor Carol appeared to mind much as they attempted the stairs while depriving each other of oxygen. Nancy and Steve looked to be on the same path.

Barb's uninjured hand shot out. She managed to catch Nancy by the elbow, breaking her stride. "Nancy, what are you doing?"

Nancy encouraged Steve to wait upstairs for her. She turned back to her friends with a guileless smile. "We're just going upstairs to change," she explained, not a care in the world to be found.

"Listen, I think we should leave," Barb whispered. "You know what's going to happen if you go up there."

An amazed look came over Nancy's face. "Oh my god. You are so jealous!"

Barb reared back as if slapped. "What? What are you talking about?"

"You're jealous. I can't believe I didn't see this before. If you're having such a bad time, why don't you just go home?" She snapped.

Wide-eyed Ivy shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Guys, we don't need to fight," she mumbled, tugging the sleeves of her thermal shirt to cover her hands.

Nancy shook her head. "Go home, Barb. I'll be fine."

Ivy saw the way that Barb's face crumpled. They both watched Nancy climb the stairs, not once looking back.

"Do you… think we should wait for her?" She asked softly.

Ivy had to repeat the question twice before Barb finally responded. "Yeah," she said with a decisive nod. "We'll need to be there when it's over. That's what friends are for, right?"

She offered her a tight smile. "Right," she agreed, because she knew that's what her friend needed to hear. She looked down and saw bright spots of crimson of the crisp white carpet. "Your bandage is bleeding through," she remarked calmly.

Barb looked down and swore colorfully.

"It's okay. I'll go get another," Ivy assured her.

"Maybe more gauze this time?" Barb suggested with a weak laugh.

Ivy nodded solemnly. "That might help."

"I'll be outside," she informed her, ambling in the direction of the pool.

"Okay. I'll meet you out there," she called back.

The bathroom was a mess of bloodied paper towels and bandage wrappers. First aid was not one of Barb's strong suits. Ivy swept the mess into the trashcan. She rinsed the sink as best as she could. There wasn't anything she could do about the faint rusty spray on the mirror.

She was passing the through the kitchen when she heard the scream. Her steps slowed to a stop. She might have been a virgin, but she was pretty sure that sex wasn't supposed to sound like that.

Another scream pierced the air, making Ivy jump. That's when she realized that the sound was coming from outside. She dropped all of the supplies she had gathered and sprinted.

Ivy didn't know what her plan was. She didn't even know what was going on. She did know, however, that Barb had never been a strong swimmer.

Whatever Ivy had in mind went right out the window when she got to the patio. Her foot hit a puddle on the slick concrete and shot out from under her, pitching her forwards. Although she was able to get her hands up it was too late. Inertia had taken over. With a deafening crack her skull bounced off the concrete. Lights flashed behind her eyelids and then everything went dark.

* * *

Looking into the light hurt. A thousand needles stabbed into Ivy's brain, digging deeper the longer she stared into the light. The relief of the doctor lowering the penlight was like a slap in the face. She stared into space dazedly, mesmerized by the after images burned into her sight.

"Miss, do you know what day it is?" The doctor asked.

Her shoulders hunched. "Wouldn't you like to know, doctor boy?" She muttered. She didn't like him or his penlight.

The doctor sighed. "Mr. and Mrs. O'Malley, I -"

Ivy tuned him out. His voice was too loud. Everything was too loud. She wanted to go to sleep. Why wouldn't they let her sleep?

Fingers prodded her face. She blinked back to the present. The doctor was talking. Of course he was.

"-happened when you fell? Anything at all?"

Slowly – so, so slowly – her brain provided a hazy image of Barb in the pool. The image was off though. The colors were wrong. They were sickly and muted. Red hair shone like a beacon. For some reason that scared Ivy very, very much.

"I don't want Barb to drown," she mumbled. She tried to focus on the doctor but there were three of the man and they all insisted on moving. "She can't swim. Do you know CPR?"

"Chief, I think it would be better to wait to take a statement in the morning," the doctor declared.

Ivy was starting to think that maybe this guy wasn't a real doctor. If he was a real doctor, he would know that her name was 'Ivy', not 'Chief'. Where was his diploma? His doctor license thingy. Where was Barb? She knew what it was called. Barb was good at that.

Frowning, she did her best to focus on one of the three doctors. "Where's Barb?"

"That's what we're trying to figure out, Miss O'Malley," a gruff voice told her.

"Oh. Okay. When you find her, can you tell Nancy that we're ready to go? Thank you." She turned to the woman sitting next to her. "Can we go now?"

The nurse patted her shoulder. "The doctor will be done soon."

Ivy groaned. "If Death should arrive a moment sooner, I would welcome such an embrace," she slurred as she stretched out across the examination table. "I'm sleepy. Goodnight."

The doctor sighed.

* * *

Mrs. O'Malley stepped into the bedroom. "Ivy dear, your friend is here to see you."

Hand clamped over the pillow covering her eyes, Ivy made no move to rise from her bed. Cautious optimism leaking out, she asked, "Is it Barb?"

"No, dear. No news on her yet," Mrs. O'Malley answered regretfully.

She deflated against the pillows. "Thank you, Mother."

Feet shuffled on carpet. The door clicked shut. Nothing was said.

Ivy frowned. "I can hear you breathing, Nancy."

She sighed, drawn out and tired. "Where have you been all week?"

"I had a concussion. The doctor note said to reduce stress as much as possible."

Doctor Underhill was not Ivy's favorite person. In fairness, she wasn't his favorite patient either. She didn't trust a thing he did and generally made his workday much harder than it needed to be. He limited their interactions as much as possible. Paper was Doctor Underhill's barrier of choice. They communicated mostly via the receptionist.

Nancy huffed. "So why didn't you call me?"

"He said reduce stress. Reduce means less, not more," she said with a façade of patience.

Another huff. There might have been a stomp, as Nancy was prone to do when Ivy was being difficult, but the carpet muffled it. "I'm being serious."

"My headache is getting worse. Please leave."

There was definitely a stomp this time. "Ivy!"

Ivy slid the pillow to her chest. Movements halting and cautious, she sat up with a groan. "Nance, I don't think I can properly explain how livid I am. Why is it that it was your boyfriend who found me and not you? You could have checked before you abandoned me there. He didn't find me until morning!"

"I thought you left with… Barb," she finished weakly.

"I was going to," she admitted, "but she wanted to wait for you."

Nancy's big brown eyes got bigger. "She did?"

Ivy nodded. The motion was ill-advised. Tenderly she massaged her throbbing temples, careful not to disturb the nasty yellow-green bruise on her forehead. "She said that's what friends were for."

Spiteful satisfaction zinged through her at the sight of Nancy's flinch.

Taking a fortifying breath, Nancy threw back her shoulders and lifted her chin. "I think Barb was taken."

"Taken?" Ivy mumbled. Her brow furrowed.

Ivy had tried to tell the police chief. He'd come to her house to get her statement but he shut the tape recorder off halfway through. He'd written her testimony off as the ramblings of a muddled little girl worried about her friend. She'd been spooked. She was confused. The head injury was affecting her memory. Those were his words, not hers. Ivy became more and more sullen with every dismissal. Chief Hopper refused to listen to her. The fact that she wouldn't mention names nor confirm the involvement of alcohol didn't help her any.

The image of Barb in the pool came uninvited once more. It had haunted her for over a week. Every night since she'd been discharged from the hospital, she'd waken up screaming, reaching for a friend that was not there. It came to her during the day, too. There wasn't any rhyme or reason to it. It came when it wanted to. Her mind would wander for a mere second and there it was.

The pool was without water but overrun with slippery black vines. Barb clung to the side, reaching out. Something pulled her under. All the while, Ivy couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. No matter how much she wanted to go to Barb – and she was just right there, why wasn't she going to her, Barb needed her help – her limbs wouldn't obey. It was so cold.

She'd see it and, for that moment, she was right back on Steve Henderson's patio.

Ivy swallowed back the rising bubble of fear. She pulled her blanket over her shoulders and tucked her knees up to her chest. "I'm not supposed to talk about the case," she whispered.

"Ha! That's rich. Are we not going to talk about how you gave Steve up to the police either?" Nancy demanded.

Ivy grimaced. "That's different."

"How?" The sharp angle of her jaw was clenched tight. Her accusatory gaze bored into Ivy, getting hotter the longer she waited for a response. "Huh? How? How is it different?"

She shrugged. "I had no choice, okay? That's the last place I saw Barb. I had to tell them."

Steve had been unavoidable to mention. His house was the last that anyone had seen of her. Ivy hated to do it since he was the one who brought her to the hospital, but Barb's safety was far more important than Steve Harrington's comfort.

Ivy closed her eyes. She hadn't been lying about the worsening headache. There was little more that she wanted than a nap.

"Look," she sighed, fiddling with her fingers. "Tell your boyfriend thank you for me. My life was not his responsibility yet he saved me. I am… grateful."

"You can tell him on Monday," Nancy replied. She crossed her arms and raised a brow. "You are coming back to school, right?"

Her expression soured. "Yes," she grumbled. She huddled further under the blanket, pressing her scowl into the plush material. "Mother and Father agree that it would be healthier for me to go back to my normal routine. What does school matter though? Barb is out there and that… that thing has her and-"

Nancy threw her hands up. "Wait. What thing?"

Ivy's eyes widened. "I-I didn't say -"

She sat on the bed next to Ivy and grasped her by the tops of her arms. "I'll believe you. No matter how crazy you think it is, I want you to be honest with me."

The intense gaze was too much for Ivy. She turned her face away and focused a row of books. Keeping her gaze locked there, she whimpered, "Nance… space? Please?"

Nancy dropped her like Ivy had caught on fire. "Sorry," she said shortly.

Examining her nails closely, Ivy mumbled, "I forgive you. And I do want to tell you the truth."

"So tell me!" Nancy encouraged, leaning into Ivy's space. Her hands were clamped tightly to her lap.

Ivy grimaced. "You'll think I'm crazier than you already do."

"Ivy, I'm telling you," Nancy assured her. "I can keep an open mind."

The words still wouldn't come to her. Ivy's fingers sought out the strings of the sweatshirt she was wearing. A row of loops made of slipknots took up one string, her fingers moving with an absentminded grace. She had undone them and looped them again before she managed to speak.

"That night at Steve's house, I saw something. It was strange, Nancy. I was there – but I wasn't there, too," she tried to explain. "There wasn't any water in the pool. I know there's water at Steve's place, but there wasn't any there. And there were these vines. It was all wrong. Like Steve's house… but not." Ivy frowned at Nancy's shoulder. "Not-Steve's house."

"What about the thing?" Nancy pressed. "You said that the thing had her."

Ivy twisted the strings together as she shook her head. She began to rock back and forth. "I don't know. I don't know what it was."

Nancy was on the verge of pouncing on her. With obvious effort, she kept her hands in her lap. "No – Ivy – focus. Tell me what you saw. What has Barb?"

Ivy licked her bottom lip and shook her head again. Her motions came a little faster. "It was a monster, Nance. It pulled her down into the pool. Its face opened up, like a flower, and it shrieked. I was so scared."

"You saw it! You actually saw it!" Nancy jumped to feet with a laugh. Her cheeks were glowing as she grinned at Ivy. "Do you know what this means?"

"The age of mortals is coming to an end," she suggested.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," she replied sharply.

A distressed noise escaped Ivy. "There's a problem."

"What?"

"I saw Barb and the – that after I hit my head." She gestured to the colorful bruise.

Nancy's mouth worked but no words came out. At last she managed to sputter out, "You dreamed it up?"

"Never have I had a dream so vivid," Ivy said in a haunted whisper. "None of my nightmares, not even since that night, have been so awful as that place." She shuddered and pulled the blanket around her tighter. "If you went there, you'd understand."

Nancy paced across the bedroom floor. She ran her fingers through her long, dark hair. When that inspired nothing, she clapped her hands together and brought them to her lips. Slowly she began to nod. The movement became more frenzied as the idea she spoke of took hold. "That's a good idea," she said eventually.

Ivy blinked. "Did I say something out loud?"

Sometimes words slipped past her lips without her knowing. It was a horrible habit that was always getting her into trouble.

A wide grin spit her face as she waved off her friend's concerns. "Focus, Ivy. We can go to that – that place and we'll find Barb ourselves. You can take me there."

Her brows shot up. "The Not-Place?" When Nancy nodded, head bobbing like a marionette, Ivy frantically shook her own. "No."

The fevered enthusiasm died. "What do you mean?" she demanded.

Ivy yanked on the strings of her sweatshirt restlessly. She hated that question. "We can't go there."

"Ivy!" She stomped her foot as her hands balled into fists at her side.

"No, Nancy, you don't understand," she tried to explain.

"You keep saying that," Nancy screeched, the sound like nails across chalkboard to Ivy's ears.

"Then why won't you listen to me?" Ivy wailed. "I don't know how I got there. I don't know how I saw what I saw. All I know is that it's real and Barb is trapped there and none of you are listening!"

Nancy threw up her hands. "Oh my god! _You_ need to listen to _me_. Do you want to help Barb or not?"

That was an easy question. "I do."

"Do you want to help us?"

Ivy hunched her shoulders. "Who is 'us'?"

"Me and Jonathan Byers," she answered. "We think that what took Barb took his brother, too. We've got to kill it before it takes more people."

Ivy bit her lip and remembered the echoes of her friend's screams. "I'd rather focus on finding Barb. Jonathan's brother, too."

"We will," Nancy assured her. "But we need to be prepared for whatever we find. That thing is dangerous."

Another shudder wracked Ivy's frame. "Of that, we can agree," she murmured.


	2. Into the Woods We Go

Fate had never deemed it necessary for Ivy O'Malley and Jonathan Byers to cross paths. Sure, they had seen each other in passing over the years. Words had never been exchanged. Ivy was starting to see why.

"No."

Nancy groaned. "Come on, Jonathan. We need all the help we can get," she wheedled.

He looked Ivy up and down. He took in her hiking boots and heavy flannel over an old thermal undershirt. She was short. Not as short as Nancy, nor was she as delicate, but definitely smaller than him. He tried to make eye contact but all he found was a vacancy.

He might've humored Nancy into bringing her friend. She had lost someone, too, after all. But Jonathan just couldn't bring himself to say yes. Finding his brother was too important. At best, she would only slow them down. What people said about her at school was true – the lights were on, but no one was home.

He shook his head. "No."

Ivy blinked. Her light green eyes came into focus. They zeroed in on him. Suddenly he felt seen.

Normally, people liked that. People wanted to be seen. Even he liked it from time to time. But this was different. Ivy looked at him in a way that made his skin crawl. He felt observed, inspected, naked. She blinked again and her gaze drifted to the wall behind him. He got the distinct impression that he'd been found lacking. Not that that was new.

Nancy threw her head back with another groan. Taking a deep breath, she brought her head forward and sighed. "Look - we need her. Please. She's the only one that's been there before."

"I don't think it's a good idea," he said. His shrug was far from apologetic. He didn't think he should have to apologize anyways. He was looking for his brother, not playing Adventures in Babysitting.

When he looked at Ivy again she was staring at Nancy's profile very, very intensely. If it had been him that she was looking at like that he thought he might wither. It didn't even faze her. He wondered if that was because she was used to ignoring Ivy or if she just felt very passionately that they needed her help.

"It's nothing personal," Jonathan said with a grimace. "I don't really like people."

"Neither does Ivy!" Nancy rushed to say. At the irritable way Ivy shifted beside her, she shrugged and said defensively, "What? It's true."

Eventually Nancy, Jonathan, and Ivy agreed to go looking for clues in the woods. They decided on a general area. There was a two mile overlap between where Will Byers had disappeared and Steve's neighborhood. Jonathan would drive. A solid plan it was not but it was the best they had.

Despite Nancy's evidence being the picture that Jonathan took himself, he wasn't sold on the idea of a monster. He scoffed at the weapons Nancy pressed into their hands. However, Ivy noticed that, when he grabbed his camera, he didn't leave the bat. There was something to be said in that, she thought.

A sensible person would be worried about the fading sunlight. The average person might be worried about encountering whatever was snatching people in sleepy Hawkins, Indiana. Not Ivy. She was too busy wrestling with her guilt.

Lying to her parents was something she rarely did if ever. However, Nancy had insisted that she tell them that they were going to study. The lie made her feel dirty. She didn't lie to her parents. There was no need to. Recent events included, her parents trusted her. Obviously that was a foible on their part seeing as how she was tromping through the forest instead of studying at the library like they thought she was.

She lied through her teeth – to her own mother's face. She didn't deserve their trust.

Jonathan glanced over his shoulder. "Doing alright back there?"

"Oh, me? I'm fine," Ivy replied vaguely, the beam from her flashlight bouncing through the trees as she gestured. In her other hand, the crowbar she carried swung just as wildly. "I am merely in the throes of a moral crisis over here. Worry not."

He shot Nancy a concerned look. Dropping his voice to a whisper, he asked, "Is she okay?"

"Don't worry. That's Ivy being Ivy," Nancy assured him as she pushed aside a branch. She had heard her say much more bizarre things before. Over the years, she had developed a sort of immunity to it. Ivy's bleak humor rolled right off her.

The self-torment went on. Ivy was reflecting on how she could be a better daughter when the beam from her flashlight passed over a tree, highlighting an anomaly. She swung the flashlight back for a second look. It was too far to make out any substantial details. It was simply a ragged white spot.

She glanced up ahead. Not too far from her, Jonathan and Nancy were talking. Their heads were bent close together.

They wouldn't miss her, she reasoned. There wasn't harm in taking a look. The anomaly wasn't too far from the path. She would still be able to see them. It might help her find Barb – or maybe Will. Or it might be nothing at all. There was no reason to get everyone excited over a white spot on a tree.

Ivy veered off the path to inspect. It was not one spot but three rows that ran parallel to each other. The white flesh of the tree showed through. Her fingers brushed over the jagged lines. It was sticky to the touch.

As the dread bubbled up inside of Ivy she heard Jonathan scream Nancy's name. She flinched, spinning around and holding her flashlight like a weapon. There was nothing there. No one was there.

No, that couldn't be right. They had been standing right there. She heard him. But, no – that thing was apparently after Nancy. Of course Jonathan would go off to save her. Nancy was the one needed rescuing. Not Ivy; except, Ivy wouldn't have minded a little backup right about then.

Only, now, there was no one there. Just her, a flashlight, and a crowbar. If what Nancy said was true – if what Ivy saw was real – then her life came down to those three things.

Ivy knees shook as stepped back onto the path. She kept juggling her two possibly-life-saving items, trying to keep the beam of light shining ahead while she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans.

She needed to find Jonathan. To find Jonathan, she had to find Nancy. To find Nancy, she had to find the monster. It was a cake walk, right?

"Cake walk… death march… hard to say," she muttered under her breath.

It didn't matter. Her head constantly swiveled left and right. She searched for signs of Nancy and Jonathan, or something much less human. There was nothing but woods.

Suddenly there was yelling. It was frantic and growing louder, but she couldn't find the source. Lights jumped out of the bushes. Blinded, Ivy raised her arm to ward off the offensive things. Two bodies slammed into hers and took her to the ground. Ivy screamed. Hands grabbed.

"Get up! It's coming! It's coming! Ivy, run!"

Ivy tried. She really did. By the time she found her feet, they were gone. Two lights bobbed through the trees as they ran. Ivy was alone – again.

The flashlight was gone, too. She'd lost grip during the fall and it had disappeared in the ensuing chaos. There was no tell-tale light to lead her to it. She stood, gripping the crowbar and shifting restlessly, trapped in the dark.

The branches clattered together overhead. Leaves rustled. The breeze whistled. The loudest thing of all was Ivy's own ragged breathing.

She was going to die.

The hairs on the back of her neck stood up. Ivy spun around. The crowbar whistled as it swung through the air.

Correction – if she was lucky, she was going to die. She trembled as her mind offered her more and more gruesome alternatives.

The dark was too exposing. Anything could be creeping up on her and she would have no idea until it was too late. She backed up, one shaky step after the other. The earth squished underneath her. Head swiveling left and right, she strained to see.

Cold air puffed across the back of her knees and neck. She stopped with a whimper. Slowly she turned around. She saw the shadow of a tree. Right in front of her, the shadows were deeper. They moved. Shadows shouldn't do that.

One by one, she pried her fingers off the crowbar to reach out. Cold radiated off the tree. Shivering, she pulled away. Memory of the Not Place felt fresh and more real than ever.

A howl pierced the air.

Ivy yelped. She spun around, crowbar at the ready. Her foot slipped on a root and she stumbled backwards. The dark spot embraced her as she fell. It was wet and slimy and so, so cold. The sensation made the circuits in her brain short out. She gagged helplessly. The slime clung to her clothes and hair and wouldn't let go no matter how hard she struggled. It pulled her deeper into the shadows.

With a grunt, she landed on her back. Black slime clung to her.

Diiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiie

In great globs, she scooped the slime from her face. It was all over her. It was too much. She was dying. She had to be. Rolling onto her hands and knees, she dry heaved. Her brain was screaming.

Diediediediediediedie – she couldn't do anything – diediediediedie – she couldn't move – diediedie

She collapsed next to a puddle of bile – die – and tried to remember how to breathe. The cold seeped in. Soon, wave after wave of tremors racked her body.

For a long time Ivy could only blink unseeingly. When her nervous system calmed down enough for her to notice her surroundings, she found herself staring ahead. Fog crept up barren trees. Everything was wrong. The wrongness of it was very familiar. It should have been. Her dreams had borne its likeness for the past week.

A whimper escaped her as she watched the ashes drifting to the ground. She rolled her head, craning her neck to see the trees. None of them bore the dense, writhing shadows she had passed through. There was nothing, like the universe had swallowed it up. It was simply gone.

She was trapped.

Limbs sluggish and unstable, she got back onto all fours. She crawled forwards until her legs were steady enough to stand. She stumbled until she could run. Branches snagged her clothes. Rocks and roots caused her to lose her footing. More than once she was sent skidding across the ash-covered ground. She had to keep going, to keep running.

The sound of an unearthly howl came from the distance. The monster with the face that opened into a deadly flower – it was in the Not Place with her.

Ivy wished that she had been able to keep hold of the crowbar or the flashlight. A weapon of any kind would have been nice. Empty handed, she kept running.

* * *

Not-Hawkins was a desolate mirror of her own world. It was a ruin shrouded in gray. Time didn't exist in such a place. At least, there was nothing for her to track it by. There was no day. There was no night. It was an endless waking nightmare.

She hadn't rested since she fell through to the Not Place. The closest she got were the precious seconds it cost her to pick herself up. She was so tired. She couldn't run anymore, but she couldn't stop either. The mournful calls of the monster were always too close.

Time didn't exist and neither did color. The Not Place only knew shades of gray. Every other color had been drained away. It their place, a heavy hand had painted the world in shadows.

It was draining her, too. She could feel it. There wasn't a part of her that wasn't gray already. She was becoming as colorless as the ruins; as insubstantial as ash. She would turn to ash and drift for all eternity.

When she saw the flash of red, tears sprung to her eyes. Gasping sobs tore from her lips as she stumbled towards it.

"Ivy?"

She collapsed beside the other girl, the first living thing she'd seen in too long, and cried.

Barb's limbs made an abortive move. She panted from the exertion. "Are you real?" She asked, voice cracking.

Bizarrely, Ivy noticed that Barb was wearing the same outfit from the party. It was stained as black and gray as the rest of the world. The glasses were missing though. She knew Barb was as blind as a bat without her glasses but she pushed that worry aside. They were too exposed in the middle of the intersection. They had to get out of the there.

Shaking her head, she grasped the front of Barb's shirt. Ivy hauled Barb to her knees. The same cold radiated from her as the rest of the Not-Place. Ivy shivered and focused on getting her friend to her feet. It was a difficult process. She pulled Barb's arm over her shoulders to help support the other girl's weight.

Ivy grunted under the strain. "We have to go," she urged in a hoarse whisper.

The barely coherent Barb hung like a ragdoll.

"Please, Barb," she sobbed.

Slowly, Barb's arm flexed. She rolled her head onto Ivy's shoulder. She lifted her foot and Ivy could have cried all over again.

It was harder to find a hiding spot for two people rather than one. It was worth it though, to have another person there. It meant another set of eyes and voice that wasn't your own. Ivy could finally rest, even if it was only for a minute. Soon, that little peace of mind Barb's presence brought her was stolen.

Barb was sick. She had been since Ivy found her. Ivy had tried to ignore it. She tried to pretend everything was fine but Barb was only getting worse. Her skin felt like ice. She could barely move. The black slime she choked up at all hours kept getting thicker and thicker. It stained everything it touched. Ivy watched, unable to do anything as her friend deteriorated in front of her.

Together they scuttled through the ghost town of Not-Hawkins, Ivy stubbornly dragging Barb along, always in search of shelter. If she couldn't heal her friend then the least she could do was find her a safe place to regain her strength.

Of course, safety, like both time and color, did not exist in the Not Place. The howl of the monster drew nearer. It circled in on them until its rancid breath was on the back of their necks.

They were on the move once again when Ivy saw it. She stopped in her tracks. Barb, being too weak to go under her own power, had no choice but to stop, too.

Up ahead, its twisted form prowled Not-Main Street. The fog was dense but soon it would see her, too. If they could get inside one of the store it might pass them by. It had worked before.

Knees shaking, she tried to slink off to the sidewalk. Beside her, Barb began to hack.

The monster froze.

"No, no, no," Ivy whimpered.

Barb bent double with the force of the coughing fit. Once it started it didn't stop until she was done. She fisted the back of Ivy's flannel as she struggled to keep her footing. Flecks of black slime flew out of her mouth and splattered across the ash-strewn pavement.

The monster rose up on its hind legs, body lengthening into the horrifying parody of a human, as it sniffed. Its face split open, barring the serrated teeth of its petals, and let loose a scream.

Ivy looked at Barb. "I'm so sorry," she whispered and let go.

Without Ivy's support, Barb collapsed. Her mouth opened but only a pitiful groan came out. Blindly she reached out for her friend. As the monster fell upon her, the groans turned to shrieks which quickly faded into a wet, bubbling gurgle.

Off to the side, Ivy hid, wedged between two cars. The monster couldn't see her. Her position meant that it would have to be practically on top of her to do so but that didn't mean she was safe. No, this was the worst place she could be. She didn't dare risk moving and catching its attention. She knew that if it heard her that everything would be over.

Both hands were clamped tight over her mouth to seal in her sobs. She pressed close to the car door, trying to suppress the way her body shook. She feared the monster would hear her bones rattle. She stayed that way long after she heard the monster drag her friend away.

Ivy wandered father and father from Not-Hawkins. She didn't both trying to rest. Every time she closed her eyes she saw Barb, searching for her as black dribbled from her purple lips. In the silence she heard her pleas. She knew that, even if she were to survive, she would never forgive herself for what she had done.

It was so lonely. Every second, guilt dragged her steps. Finally she couldn't take it anymore. Ivy stepped off the highway and walked into the trees. She walked and walked and walked.

She kept going until she was so hopelessly lost that there was no way she'd ever find her way out. Was she still in Not-Indiana? She didn't know. She didn't care.

Ivy lied down in a field of ash and dead grass. Wanting to see the stars one last time, she turned her gaze to the sky. There was nothing there besides the imposing blanket of gray that was always there. She closed her eyes and hoped that the monster had some concept of mercy. As deserving as she was, she didn't want to suffer.

The longer she lied there, the more she believed that there was a reason she was there. Maybe she was more deserving of this fate than she had originally thought. After all, she wasn't a very good friend. She blamed one friend for the disappearance of another. She had let Barb down – not once, but twice. She had literally fed her best friend to a monster. The last thing she had ever said to her mother was a lie.

Yes, she decided, maybe there was a reason.

A strange acceptance came over Ivy. She took a deep breath of the toxic air and let out. She was ready.

"Should I stay or should I go now?"

Ivy's eyes shot open.

"If I go there will be trouble… if I stay there will be double…"

She sat up, ash wafting around her, and blinked. She knew that song. Sluggishly her brain provided the lyrics. Before she could think better of it she got to her feet and started to follow.

"It's always take, take, take… You like me best when I'm on my knees…" The voice sang. "One moment it's white, the next it's black… so if you want me off your back... Come onnnnn and let me knowwww"

Ivy cupped her hand around her mouth and finished the line, "Should I cool it or should I blow?"

There was a pause. It had been so long since she heard music. Desperately she hoped that the Not-Place wasn't playing tricks on her. It seemed cruel, even for a place such as this.

Ivy strained to hear.

"Should I stay or should I go now?" The voice called.

Grin splitting her face, Ivy sprinted towards the source and shouted back, "Should I stay or should I go?"

"Should I stay or should I go now?"

"Should I stay or should I go?" She shouted, pushing through some bushes into a clearing.

"Hello?"

Ivy stumbled to a stop in front of a little shack. The sign was too decayed to read. A grubby tarp flapped over the entrance. It looked as desolate as anything in Not-Hawkins. It was a trick. It had to be. It was a trick and the Not-Place was playing with her.

"Hello?" She called out, wringing the hem of her filthy flannel with both hands. "Will Byers?"

The tarp twitched aside. Large, round blue eyes peered out at her. "Do I know you?" He whispered.

"No," she replied, blinking at him dumbly. "My name is Ivy. I was helping your brother look for you."

He stepped out. Ivy clenched her teeth to keep in a gasp. She had remembered him as a pale and scrawny kid. His sentence in the Not-Place had left him skeletal.

Will looked at the surrounding trees. His twiggy arms wrapped around his rail thin frame as a shiver rocked him. "Jonathan? Is he here?"

Reluctantly, Ivy shook her head. "No. It's just me."

A vicious part of her mind whispered Barb's name. She did her best to tune it out. She wasn't any more successful than she usually was.

A screeching howl bounced through the trees. Ivy and Will both flinched.

Will lifted the tarp. "You better come inside," he said.

The offer didn't need to be repeated. With a nod, she ducked inside. What little light inside the shack vanished when he dropped the tarp.

It got cold in the shack. Outside wasn't an option. There weren't many blankets so Ivy and Will huddled together to conserve warmth.

She felt the knobs of his spine through his jacket. The chatter of his teeth woke her constantly. Sharp knees and elbows rattled against her. She did her best to ignore the chill of his skin when it brushed hers. She pretended not to notice when his frame was wracked with coughs. The symptoms were the same, if progressing slower than Barb's had. Ivy was determined to see a different outcome.

"What is this place?" She asked once.

"Castle Byers," he said into her shoulder. "It's my special place."

"It's a very nice castle," she commended him.

She didn't know if it was a nice castle or not. She'd never been to one. It seemed like the polite thing to say – something she thought that Nancy would have said.

He shifted. His knee dug into her thigh. He settled with a weak grunt. "Thanks. You know, you're the first girl that's ever been in here. Besides my mom, I mean," he explained.

A smile – the first in who knew how long – twitched at her lips. "What an honor."

Silence fell between them. That wasn't unusual. She thought he might have fallen back asleep. It was hard for him to stay awake for long.

Will's high pitched voice broke through the darkness, making Ivy twitch. "I'm glad you're here, Ivy," he declared.

"Me, too, Will," she whispered. Carefully she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and pulled him tighter to her side.

She was more grateful to Will than he would probably ever realize. Finding him in Castle Byers made her realize something. No one deserved the fate of the Not Place. Not even her. She didn't know how long they were going to be stuck there, but she did know that they would see the other side. She wanted Will to see colors again.

At some point Ivy dozed off. She startled awake at the pinch on her side. "What is it?" She hissed, heart pounding wildly in her chest.

Will inhaled a rattling breath. "Look," he exhaled, a bone of a finger pointing across the tiny room.

Ivy stared at him blankly. Noticing this, he nudged her cheek until she turned her head where he wanted her to look. When she saw the girl, she nearly screamed. She gathered Will closer and stared with wide eyes.

The other girl stared back. The outline of her was hazy. It was like she wasn't really there. The colors of her clothes were too bright to look at directly so Ivy tried to focus on the girl's face. Like the rest of her it was thin. Her big brown eyes were scared.

When the apparition spoke, it was hushed and echoed. "Hello?" (hello?hello?hello?)

"Can you help us?" She asked. "Please. He's sick."

The brown eyes turned to Will. "Will Byers? (willbyers?byers?byers?)"

Desperately, Ivy nodded. "Yes, this is Will. I'm Ivy."

The girl looked at her once more. "Ivy (ivy,ivy,ivy)," she repeated. "Where are you? (whereareyou?areyou?areyou?)"

"We're at Castle Byers. Please, can you help us?"

"Castle Byers (castlebyers,byers,byers)," the girl murmured.

The apparition wouldn't look at her. Ivy dropped her head back against the rough wooden wall and swallowed back a sob. She couldn't lose it in front of Will. He needed her to be strong. Even if they were sharing hallucination, she had to be strong.

"Please," Ivy begged, fighting back the tears in her eyes, "Please. He needs out. We need a way out of here."

For a second the girl looked lost and then she stared straight at Ivy. Her edges became more distinct. "Stay there (staythere,there,there). Help is coming (iscoming,coming,coming)."

Ivy squeezed her arms until Will squirmed against her. "Okay," she promised.

The girl nodded. Ivy blinked and then she was gone.

Will flinched and trembled. "Ivy?" Will rasped.

"It's okay," she whispered, pressing her cheek to the top of his head. "The colors will come back. Just stay with me, Will. You'll see. You'll see."

Soon Will was too exhausted to stay awake. He wheezed with every breath. Ivy hoped that the help that the girl promised would arrive in time. For now, all she could do was wait. Fate wasn't something you could rush.


	3. Colors

Ivy hated doctors.

Throughout her short sixteen years, she had met many types of doctors. There were doctors that prodded her when she was hurt. There were doctors who put her inside machines to look inside of her. They said something was broken and that's why she was different than her peers. They just needed to find it, they said. There were doctors that didn't work in hospitals, too. Those doctors tried to make her talk and make her look them in the eye. It was always "explain this" and "what you mean by that?" Those doctors told her parents the broken thing was all in her head.

All the doctors tried to give her medicine. Ivy wouldn't take it. It made her sick. She would spit out their pills. She fought them when they tried to stab her with their syringes. Her parents hated seeing her so upset. The doctor visits became less and less frequent as the years marched on.

"Miss O'Malley? Ivy, can you hear me?"

Doctors and their stupid questions, she thought mutinously.

"Yes," she replied. Her voice was so hoarse that she barely recognized it. She hated that. It made her feel like she didn't belong in her body, like she had accidentally fallen into the wrong one.

There was a scribble as the doctor wrote something down. Stupid clipboards. They never let her see what they wrote. She hated that, too.

"Do you remember how you got here?"

Memories of two people in bulky biohazard suits came to her. They'd come to save them. Will had been too weak to walk. Only one of their rescuers was strong enough to carry another person and she hadn't objected when they picked Will. He was so much worse off than she was. She had staggered behind them, choking on the ever-falling ash, until they came to the Gate. That's what they had called it – the Gate. Her legs had collapsed underneath her before she could reach it. The smaller of the two rescuers had dragged her the last few feet. She never learned who they were.

The doctor called her name again.

Ivy shook her head. "No," she croaked.

Scribble, scribble, scribble.

In the end, the doctor hadn't helped much. He told Ivy's parents, who had been there where she awoke, that she needed to stay for a few nights. "For observation," he explained.

The very term was laughable. Being kept for "observation", in Ivy's experience, meant that they had no clue what was going on or what to do.

Mr. O'Malley objected. He wanted his daughter home, where she belonged. She had been missing for several days. They wanted to take her someplace familiar so that she could be comfortable.

The doctor rambled on and on. Doctors did love to hear themselves speak. He mentioned lung damage and memory loss and nutrition deficiency several time. Ivy didn't care about any of that. The doctors liked their fancy words but she had learned over the years that it was just for show. Most of the time, they knew less than their patients.

"Where's Will?" Ivy asked once the doctor was gone.

Mrs. O'Malley guided her daughter back against the pillows. They had brought Ivy's favorite blanket in case she was too upset when they saw her. There were so many drugs pumping through her system that she'd barely been able to open her eyes. Once she had awoken, Ivy was more subdued than usual. This worried Mr. and Mrs. O'Malley but the doctor had assured them both that it was normal after such an experience.

She drew the blanket over Ivy, careful of the tubes and wires. She smiled when her daughter nuzzled the soft fabric. "Don't worry, Ivy dear," she cooed.

Ivy's brow furrowed. She struggled to sit up. "No… No, Will needs me."

Mr. O'Malley placed a big meaty hand on her chest. He pulled back when she flinched but hovered in case she tried again. "Will Byers is resting," he soothed her. "His family is with him. You can see him after you've rested, too."

Reluctantly she allowed herself to be tucked in. Soon the drugs and the exhaustion took over and she was sound asleep.

Ivy dreamed of a blank space. It was nothing but black. Water lapped at her bare feet as she wandered, trying to find… anything. The peacefulness lured her in. Soon she found herself floating in the shallow water. What was the point of trying to get out? The blankness went on forever. Why bother? It was so soothing.

Screams tore Ivy from her peace.

She startled awake. It took a second for her to orient herself. She didn't recognize the sterile room. Her parents were there, too. They were asleep in separate chairs. It must've been a safe place if they were there.

Yelling carried through the hall. It sounded like someone was being attacked. One of the monitors copied the spike in her heart rate. Where was Will?

She shot up in bed. The drip line in her arm caught and she hissed at the sudden awareness of it. She could feel the metal moving under her skin. It was so revolting that the only thing her brain could process was that it needed to come out – now. Ivy yanked it out on the second try. It hurt, but not as much as it had when the needle was inside of her. The rest of the wires and tubes were quickly dispatched as well. The monitor beside her bed screeched. Ivy covered her ears and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She needed to go.

Hands grabbed at her. Ivy swung wildly. "No!" She protested. "I have to find Will. Will! WILL!"

Mr. O'Malley pushed the orderly aside. He wrapped his arms around Ivy, pinning her arms to her sides. Just as he knew she would, she thrashed harder. Her head came back and cracked with his jaw, filling his vision with stars, but he refused to let go.

The orderly returned. There were angry scratch marks along the left side of his face. A large syringe in his hand glinted threateningly in the lowlight. Ivy whimpered at the sight.

"You have to get back in bed," Mrs. O'Malley coaxed. "Please, dear."

Ivy jerked. She tried to drop, hoping that the deadweight would help her slip from her father's grip. Unfortunately for Ivy, he was wise to her tricks. She shook her head as the orderly came closer. "I need to find Will," she told them. "Ouch! Ow… ow…" She wilted in her father's embrace.

As the O'Malleys tucked their unconscious daughter back under her favorite blanket, Joyce Byers appeared in the doorway. "Is everything okay in here?" She inquired.

Mrs. O'Malley nodded tiredly. "As well as it can be." She sighed. "How is your son?"

"Still kicking," Joyce joked with a weak smile. Her stomach, which would bear bruises come morning, did not think she was funny. "It was just a nightmare. There's more where that came from, I'm sure. He's sleeping now. How is she?" She nodded to the girl.

Mrs. O'Malley caressed the side of Ivy's face. Even in her sleep she flinched away from the touch. Mrs. O'Malley pulled away and the previous serenity returned to her daughter's face. "Just a nightmare," she echoed.

"Gotcha. Poor girl. I wish there was more I could do to help," Joyce rambled, sagging against the doorframe. The past month had not been kind to her.

"Doctor Owens says that she'll recover," Mr. O'Malley informed her. "He says that it's merely a matter of time."

Joyce nodded sympathetically. "Let me know if you need anything," she said.

Despite the circles under her eyes, she was earnest. She meant what she had said about wanting to help. Ivy O'Malley had saved her son's life. She didn't know what would have happened to her baby if Ivy hadn't been there.

Mr. O'Malley nodded his gratitude. "Thank you, Joyce."

"Yes," Mrs. O'Malley copied him, "thank you, Joyce."

* * *

Will had always been small. He'd been born premature and never seemed to catch up to his peers. Swamped in blankets and tubes, Jonathan thought he looked smaller than usual. He was delicate. The skin stretched over his bones was nearly translucent. He was a washed out gray.

The hairs on the back of Jonathan's neck stood up. The feeling of being watched was not new for him. Frowning, he tore his attention away from his brother and looked over his shoulder.

Ivy swayed in the doorway. The only thing supporting her was the IV stand a thin plastic tube connected her to.

Alarmed, he got to his feet. "Should you be out of bed?" He fretted.

"What? …No. They'll sedate me again for this," she muttered absently. Her gaze was locked on Will much like Jonathan's had been a second ago. "I strive to be the thorn that won't be forgotten. Is he going to be alright?"

He sighed and ran his hand through his shaggy hair. He needed a haircut. With everything going on in his life, he hadn't had the time or the care to have it done.

"I think so," he said at last. "I hope so. I don't think I can lose him again."

"I'll find him."

He frowned. "What?"

Eerie focus came to those sea foam green eyes as they rested on him. The gaze was just as penetrating as it had been the last time and Jonathan crossed his arms over his chest to keep from fidgeting.

She blinked. Without asking for permission, she drifted into the room. Her steps were halting but light. The thick, fuzzy socks she wore muffled any sounds she might have made; perfect for sneaking past orderlies and nurses.

Once she reached Will's bedside, her hands uncurled from the IV stand and moved to grip the railing on his bed instead. Her head tipped to the side, dull brown hair skittering across her shoulders. She simply stared at him for a long time.

"If you lose him again, I'll find him," she declared suddenly.

Belatedly, Jonathan realized that she was answering his question from earlier. What was he supposed to say to that? She had found Will when he couldn't.

His mother had told him how she and Hopper had found them; bundled together, shivering. The mantra Ivy had been muttering in Will's ear hadn't stopped after they pried the boy from her arms. None of it had made sense to his mother. Apparently anytime Ivy would lag behind, Will would call out for the girl, and she would be right there again, right at Hopper's shoulder, babbling nonsense.

"Thanks," he grunted.

Ivy said nothing. She swayed where she stood. Steadily she reached out to pick a piece of lint off the pillow. The pads of her fingers rolled it back and forth. She looked at it, discarded it, and went back to staring at Will.

Her little excursion in defying the medical staff had worn her out. She should have been resting. The expression on her face made it clear though that she didn't want to be anywhere else.

He cleared his throat and looked away. Despite Will being his brother, Jonathan suddenly felt like an intruder.

Joyce stirred in the chair she had passed out in twenty minutes prior. Jonathan went over to her. He whispered in her ear that nothing had changed – she should sleep while she could. Joyce muttered something about a cigarette and fell back to sleep.

After a moment, Ivy straightened up. She gripped her IV stand and left without another word.

* * *

Since Will had been in the Upside Down (that's what Nancy said her brother and his friends called it) longer than Ivy, she was discharged earlier. Jonathan couldn't help but be grateful. Yes, it was true that he would never be able to repay Ivy for finding his little brother. That didn't make her any easier to be around. He wouldn't miss the twice-daily visits or off beat conversations.

The day after Ivy was discharged a flower arrangement appeared at Will's bedside table. Sunflowers, bigger and brighter than anything had a right to be in the solemn Department of Energy clinic, overflowed the vase.

The nurses wanted to get rid of them. They claimed it was against policy. Jonathan agreed with them. The big yellow flowers were an eyesore. Joyce stopped them. They hadn't seen Will smile so big as when he saw the big yellow sunflowers. Jonathan supposed he would just have to learn to live with it.

Before the sunflowers could fully wilt another arrangement appeared. Joyce said that they were lavender and freesia and bluebells. It was a purple mass to Jonathan. It was lumpy and the scent didn't mix well with the antiseptic stench of the clinic. Will loved that stupid purple mass so they kept those, too. More came after that. Daisies, crocuses, roses in a veritable rainbow of colors; Will loved them all.

There was never a card. It didn't matter to Will. "It's Ivy," he insisted.

Ivy came in twice a week for checkups. Why wouldn't she say anything about the flowers? She didn't even glance at them whenever she came to speak to Will.

"Why would you think that?" His mother asked. It was more humoring him than anything else.

"She said that she would bring the colors back," he said. His fingers brushed over the dark red petals of poinsettia, the latest to show up.

Joyce swallowed hard. When Will looked back at her, she plastered on a bright grin and kissed his cheek. Words thick with emotion, she said, "I think they're lovely."

Will beamed up at her. "Me, too."

The conversation stuck with Jonathan. He'd been in the Upside Down once. It was very brief and he'd been too concerned about saving Nancy to notice much. He remembered how bleak it was. The forest had looked dead. He wondered if the rest of the Upside Down was the same.

Will had always been attached to his drawing materials, but once he was discharged it became a constant. Wherever he went there was a drawing pad tucked under his arm. Crayons were picked out of his pockets before they were thrown in the wash. Pencil shavings littered his floor. His fingers were stained with at least one type of ink every day. The walls of his bedroom disappeared underneath the paper.

Their mother loved it. She encouraged it even more than she had before the incident. The refrigerator was a proud display. It screamed, "Look! My son's not crazy! He's going to be okay!" Soon, that was overrun, too. It spread to the kitchen wall.

Some of them didn't get hung up. Many were given to friends that visited. A select few were slipped into an envelope and sent to Ivy. Will never let his mother or brother see those ones. It worried Jonathan. Their mother brushed it off, happy to oblige such a simple whim. He wasn't so sure. He couldn't help wondering what it was that his little brother could talk to this girl but not him.

The next time Jonathan saw Ivy it was when she showed up at his house. He was so shocked by the sight of her that he simply stood in the doorway like an idiot.

Ivy blinked at him. She seemed content to wait him out.

"Nice hair," he blurted out. "It's a nice… color."

She brushed a lock of electric blue off her freckled cheek. Each of her fingernails was painted a pale purple. "Yes, it is. May I come in?"

He stepped to the side to let her pass. She stared at him. "Come in," he invited.

Will cheered when he saw her. He came right up and hugged her around the middle. "You look beautiful!" He gushed.

A sweet smile spread across her face. Jonathan had never seen her smile before. She had dimples. It was more shocking than the hair had been. Ivy didn't spare him a second glance though.

"I got your pictures," she said. "Those are beautiful. Do you think you could make as beautiful as that?"

"You want me to draw you?" He asked, stunned.

"If you're willing," she confirmed.

His face split into a megawatt grin. "Of course! When?"

She held out her arms for Will's inspection. "Am I dressed right for a portrait?"

"Sure! I'll be right back." He sped off to his room.

Less than a minute later he reappeared with an armful of art supplies. She followed his instructions as he directed her into the pose he wanted only for him to change his mind several times. Some of the poses didn't look very comfortable. To Jonathan's surprise, Ivy didn't protest in the slightest.

Will had her sit again. After a moment, he directed her to bend one leg and the tuck other leg beneath it. She was then to wrap her left arm around the bent leg. The opposite hand acted as balance. "Right there!" He exclaimed.

Ivy froze. The rise and fall of her chest ceased. She barely even blinked.

He jumped to his feet and came forward to crouch in front of Ivy. His hand hovered near her shoulder. "Can I move your hair?"

"Yes."

Will scooped her hair to drape in front of her shoulders. Gently he used his fingers to comb a few rogue pieces straight. With a single nod he declared her ready.

Ivy sat perfectly still for over an hour. She could have been one of those living statues. Her gaze remained focused at the cat clock on the wall, intense in that way that always made Jonathan squirm, as Will drew. Will was just as focused. He grabbed crayons left and right. His tongue peeked out when he tried to get a detail just right. He scribbled and tapped and swirled like a madman.

Soft light filtered in through the window. It settled on the artist and his subject. The scene was too perfect. Jonathan couldn't resist. He crept off to his room to grab his camera. On his way back, he ducked into the kitchen and motioned for his mother to be quiet and follow him. She did so with a bewildered look.

Will and Ivy were right as he left them. He snapped three pictures without either of them noticing.

Joyce leaned her head against Jonathan's arm. "That's going to be a good one," she said knowingly.

He wasn't sure if she meant his picture or Will's. Revealing his rare half smile, he nodded.

"It's so good to see him happy," she sighed.

"Yeah," he agreed softly. Maybe Will having Ivy to talk to wasn't so bad after all.

With another wistful sigh, Joyce patted his arm and left. Jonathan took a few more pictures, changing the focus or angle slightly, before he decided to leave, too. Those two weren't going anywhere.


	4. -Author's Note-

**Dear Readers,**

**I would like to take a moment to thank you for reading my story. I hope you enjoy Ivy as much as I enjoy writing her. This story was supposed to stop at the last chapter and yet it doesn't feel complete to me. If you feel the same, you will be happy to know that I am working on a sequel (currently untitled). I should be posting the first chapter of that by next month. For now, please enjoy this sneak peek.**

**Stay tuned ~ Meow**

* * *

Nancy's gaze flicked down to his wrist. "What's that?"

He shook his wrist so the bracelet settled better. "Ivy made it. I think she said they were called friend arrows or something?"

"Friendship arrows," she corrected softly.

Once upon a time, way back in elementary school, Barb had taught Nancy and Ivy how to make them. Ivy had taken to it like a duck to water. The entirety of her forearms had been covered in handmade bracelets much like the one Jonathan wore for most of middle school.

He nodded and tugged his sleeve down to cover his hand. "Yeah… She's always making them for Will. He probably has dozens of them. I, um, asked her if she'd make one. For me, I mean."

"Right," Nancy said. "She used to make them for me." The words "and Barb" tacked themselves to the end of her sentence without her consent.

Ivy had made Nancy more than a few. The only one Nancy held onto was back from when they had first learned how. It was much too small for her now. Barb hadn't lost hers. She was a much better friend than Nancy felt that she was.

"Is she here?" Jonathan asked.

Nancy shook her head to clear them of long past memories. "Oh, yeah. She's probably down in the basement."

Offering a grimace of a smile, he squeezed past her. He opened the basement door and yelled down, "Guys! It's time to go."

A series of groans came from below.

"It's already almost dark," he called again.

More groans came.

Jonathan decided to change tactics. "Ivy, I can take you home."

Steps thundered on the stairs. Will appeared first, followed closely by Ivy.

She looked at Jonathan, wide eyed but otherwise expressionless. Her cheeks were flushed from the sprint. Slightly breathless, she declared, "It's a school night."

"Yes," he agreed. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and waited for her to continue.

"Mother will be most displeased if I am late."

The corner of his mouth ticked upwards. "Mrs. O'Malley might not mind if you're a little late," he considered aloud.

"Perish the thought," she replied, drifting past him into the kitchen. Her gaze slid right over Nancy. They both believed that she would ignore Nancy presence entirely until her voice floated back. "Don't let your brother see that hickey."

Nancy's hand flew to her chest. Belatedly, she realized that her blouse buttoned up to the throat. There was no way that Ivy had seen the truly spectacular bruise she was sporting underneath.

He chuckled and shook his head. His eyes followed her as far as he could

Nancy's brows furrowed. "I didn't realize that you two were," she hesitated. Gathering her courage, she plunged ahead, "close."

Earlier traces of humor vanished. He scratched the side of his mouth. "I mean, sort of. Neither one of us really do 'close'."

This made more sense that what Nancy had assumed. She remembered how distant Ivy could be. There was no way she could ever imagine the other girl in anything resembling a romantic relationship.

The truth was, Ivy hadn't been talking to her at all.

"Come on, Jonathan!" Will beckoned, halfway down the front walk. "Let's go!"

He raised his voice to reply, "Alright! I'm coming!" He glanced at Nancy and cleared his throat, gaze darting away. "I guess I'll see you in class."

"Yeah," she with an uneasy chuckle.

His shoulders hunched as he pushed past her once more.

* * *

**Update: The first chapter of "Puzzles and Games" has been posted. **

**Happy reading ~ Meow**


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